


under which you can meet me

by gudetama (elementary)



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Gellert Grindelwald Never Impersonated Percival Graves, M/M, Mistletoe, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 09:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementary/pseuds/gudetama
Summary: Please meet me under the mistletoe on Sunday night at 8 p.m. -PG





	under which you can meet me

**Author's Note:**

> I don't remember where I saw the prompt, but it was something along the lines of: Newt likes someone with the initials PG. People think it's Porpentina Goldstein, but is it?
> 
> Thought it was super cute and also today the DJ of the radio station I was listening to said mistletoe as in 'under which you can meet me on Sunday night' which screamed Gramander at me, lol.
> 
> This is my Christmas contribution. Enjoy!

_Please meet me under the mistletoe on Sunday night at 8 pm. –PG_

Newt feels his face warm as he reads the note, mainly in discomfort. This surely has to be a prank of sorts because he isn’t one to acquire any admirers, certainly not any with the intention to kiss him. Which is what he assumes the blatant mention of the mistletoe is for.

It would be wise to ignore this altogether, save himself the embarrassment of falling for such a trick; but he wonders if that might be rude. And what if... what if this person is real? To have courage to send this letter and be rejected for no other reason than Newt dismissing it as a joke—his heart squeezes a bit guiltily. It’s a terrible dilemma he finds himself in, and is reminded once again that it’s easier not be involved with people.

He reads the letter again. _PG_. Whose name carries those initials?

About halfway through the day, Newt remembers that Tina’s full name is Porpentina. Porpentina Goldstein. PG. As soon as he realizes, he unconsciously looks up from his desk in her direction—and as if sensing his gaze, Tina’s head turns. She blinks when their eyes meet, but then she smiles brightly at him and waves from where she is. Surprised, Newt looks down again, face warming for another reason and heart beating a little quicker.

He never expected—

Well, she is a wonderful lady, he thinks. Kind, loyal, brave, doesn’t think him strange (most of the time) and understands his care for his creatures. His first friend after transferring from the Ministry to MACUSA to expand what is the American counterpart for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Helped him on numerous occasions to retrieve the ones that escape his (again broken) suitcase and defers to his expertise on specialized missions in the field.

He has two more days to make a decision based on his speculation, thinks he might even ask her directly before that and confirm. It could be rather awkward to tell her under a mistletoe, after all.

But he doesn’t end up doing so, and on Sunday night he walks slowly towards the only location with a mistletoe hanging from the door post in his department. The hallways of MACUSA are a bit eerie this time of night, the only people here being the overworked and the cleaners. Even the department of Magical Law Enforcement is empty, possibly save for the one person who never seems to leave the building at any time of the week.

Newt suddenly feels nervous, hoping they won’t be disturbing him.

He turns into the hall leading to Director Graves’ office, and it seems the man isn’t here judging by the darkness of the corridor, which gives Newt immense relief. He doesn’t want to imagine what would have happened if the Director actually was here to catch them. It’s truly ironic that they hung the mistletoe above his door but the Director had insisted, saying that if anyone dares to try as they enter his office, then please feel free. Preventative measures for hormones running amok, he said.

Arriving in front of the door, Newt sighs. There are two minutes left until their appointed meeting and his heartbeat starts to quicken. What will he say to her—

“Newt?”

Newt yelps at the door suddenly opening behind him, the voice calling his name. He spins around, hand over his heart that beats too fast.

“Mr. Graves!” he gasps. “I didn’t know you were—oh, I’m sorry, I was just—”

Director Graves, impeccable in his three-piece suit as always, shakes his head in amusement. “Yes, I know.”

“Of course, of course you—” Newt pauses, blinks. “You know?”

“You must be here because of the note, yes?”

Hearing that, Newt’s face can’t help but go slack with shock, the pieces clicking together. PG. _Percival Graves_.

“Oh dear Merlin...” he strangles out, astonished.

The warmth in Director Graves’ eyes vanishes, his brows furrow and his mouth turns down. His voice is flat when he speaks. “You weren’t expecting me.”

“I—I, uh,” Newt stutters. “It’s, well, surprising, to say the least.”

“I see,” the man sighs, almost seeming disappointed. He looks away. “Well, I apologize for having wasted your time. Good night, Mr. Scamander.”

“Wait!” Newt slams his hand against the door trying to close on him, surprising them both. The sound of impact echoes down the hall. “Wait, please.”

When the director stops, listens, Newt calms a little. He takes a breath to fortify himself, steps forward to close the distance between them. Director Graves looks up with widening eyes.

“You see,” Newt starts, clears his throat and curses how his voice shakes, but continues. “It’s surprising in that I didn’t expect the one I had hoped for to be here.” It’s Mr. Graves’ turn to look struck, and Newt likes how his expression turns tentatively hopeful. “I thought it was Tina, and had planned to apologize that I couldn’t return her affections, give her a kiss on the cheek, perhaps.”

“And why is that?” Mr. Graves asks, voice a bit rough-sounding.

Blushing, Newt says, “Because there’s someone else.”

“What did you have planned for this person?” Mr. Graves persists.

“I didn’t,” Newt replies truthfully, but his hands bravely come up to frame the face he has always dreamed of seeing at this proximity.

It still must be a dream, because there was no indication of the man’s affections for him, not that he saw. Newt only always seemed to aggravate him, a troublesome employee at best, a nuisance at worst. Yet, he recalls in this moment the times a gentle hand or voice guided him through the problems he encountered, starting from the difficulty of transitioning here. Director Graves had never criticized his person, only his actions that lacked caution for himself and others, admired his passion for creatures while reminding him of the importance of human lives as well. He smiled at times as if pleased with Newt, and encouraged him continuously.

And he smiles now, holding onto Newt’s waist with one hand, the other cupping his cheek and brushing gently under the eye.

“But if you’re amenable to it, I would like to follow the traditions of this particular plant,” Newt finishes shyly, reddening further.

Instead of answering—verbally, at least—Mr. Graves leans in and kisses him, lips pressing gently to Newt’s, and the tenderness behind this gesture makes his heart quiver in delight. Newt pulls back with a silent gasp only to dive right back in, changing the angle to close his mouth more firmly, deeply onto the one below him. He shivers when the hand at his cheek slides over his neck, up into his hair to tug lightly and someone whimpers. It’s him, he realizes, when he feels the mouth against his widening into a smile before teeth nibble at his bottom lip.

The third kiss leaves him breathless, wanting more because it just feels so good, better than he had ever imagined. Mr. Graves draws back, unfortunately, but then he kisses Newt’s heated cheek, his ear, shushes his pleas with another chaste kiss to his lips before bringing his hand up to kiss the palm of it.

“We have time,” he says in such a gentle voice, eyes warm once again. “I would like to take you out on a date, woo you properly until you’re mine.”

Newt might already be his, quite happily, but he nods anyway.

And from that day on until it gets taken down, the mistletoe becomes solely reserved for the two of them.


End file.
